Page 103 of Tripped By Love
Every ounce of empathy left me, replaced instead with a red-hot fury as I realized what she meant. I stood, hand gripping the back of the chair tightly. “Get out.”
She continued staring at me as if I was a novelty. As if I somehow continued to surprise her. I wanted to take her coffee and throw it in her face. I wanted to have the strength to pull her from her chair by the back of her polka-dotted dress and toss her from the restaurant. I took in a deep breath, trying to stay calm and knowing there wasn’t much more I could take before I lost it and yelled things that would be held against me.
“Maybe you don’t understand,” she said. “You can name any price you want for me to take your son off your hands. You’d still be given visitation rights. I’d see to it, regardless of what Clayton wants. We’d write up a contract to ensure it.”
I couldn’t even believe how calm she stayed while offering to buy my child. I’d never in my life felt such disgust, horror, and rage all at the same time.
“I repeat. Get out! Get out and don’t ever come back. How dare you…” My voice shook with the emotions I tried to contain. “How dare you even… What kind of human being are you? What kind of mother do you thinkIam?”
She smiled, and this time it seemed real, as if my anger and disgust had somehow truly amused her. No, pleased her. I tucked my hands under my armpits in order to keep them away from her. To stop myself from scratching the smile off her face.
“Just as I thought,” she said, and she stood, straightening her dress and pulling her expensive purse from the chair to set it on her shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with humor at my outrage when she landed them back on me again. “You’re right, Ms. O’Neil. A real mother would never bargain with her child. Maybe if they lived somewhere unsafe and knee-deep in poverty and thought they could give their child a better life, but none of those things apply to you. I’m glad you did exactly what I hoped you would.”
I could do nothing but stare, afraid of what I would say or do if I moved.
Her smile grew wider as she left a hundred-dollar bill on the table for a cup of coffee and then stepped toward the door. “Clayton and I will both be out of your hair. I’m divorcing him, you see. We really don’t suit now that I know who he really is. Once there is no chance of him getting his hands on my money through a child, I can imagine his pursuit of yours will end. We both know he abhors anything messy that he can’t control, and children are both of those things, aren’t they? Messy and unpredictable.”
She took two more steps and then stopped, looking back at me with a gentleness I would never have expected. “I didn’t realize he came to Grand Orchard this summer for this reason. I’d told him I needed space, but I didn’t even know… Regardless, I’ve found out in time to stop it all. I wish you and your son much luck.” She looked around. “But you don’t need it, do you? You already have everything you could want.”
She was sad, as if she was missing something important in her life, and I couldn’t keep myself from softening again. I felt sorry for her. Not only for being married to Clayton, but for her inability to have children of her own, and for being the end of a family line.
She grimaced as she read my emotions. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Ms. O’Neil. I’m a survivor. I think you are, too. So, we both know that I’ll pick myself up off the ground and keep going.”
And with that, she left, the bell ringing as the door swung shut behind her. Out the window, I saw her walk into the street to a limousine that pulled up behind the parked cars. A driver in a uniform jumped out, opening the back for her, and she got in without another glance.
It took a moment for me to realize I was holding my breath. That I was still waiting for the other shoe to fall. But then relief started to filter in as her words really settled into my heart. She was leaving him. Marco had said the only reason Clayton wanted Chevelle was because his wife couldn’t have kids, and he wanted to get his hands on her trust fund. And Mrs. Van Der Hellig-Hardy was right about Clayton. He didn’t want a child screwing up the perfection of his world. It was why I had been completely baffled over his desire to have my son. It made sense that it had only been about the money.
I was still standing there frozen when Marco and Jonas walked in the door. Marco’s eyes immediately landed on me as I stood there full of so many emotions that I wasn’t sure which one was showing on my face. Whatever it was, it was enough for Marco to rush over and pull my hands into his.
“What is it?”
My gaze landed on the limousine in the street.
“Was it someone we know?” he asked.
“It was Clayton’s wife.”
Marco's eyes grew wide. “Are you okay? What did she want?”
“At first, she offered to buy Chevelle,” I said with a weak laugh. His eyes grew dark and his face angry, but I rushed to continue before he could react. “It was just a test. She really came to say she was divorcing Clayton and that she thought it would end his pursuit of Chevelle. I actually feel…sorry for her.”
We stared at each other as my words sank into both of us. We were going to be free of one of the last burdens hanging over our heads. He smiled—the huge one that stopped my heart and reminded me of beams of light from the heavens. Joy radiated from him, meeting my own happiness as it burst from me.
Then, we were hugging each other, squeezing tight until the air burst out of us in a gust. He sent a dozen little kisses to the side of my head until I turned my lips, and our mouths found each other. The café was full. People were staring, and neither of us cared.
Jonas made a noise, and there was a round of applause that filled the air, and I thought I heard Floyd tell Irma she owed him fifty dollars.
I laughed, pulling back to smile up into his beautiful eyes.
“I love you,” I said softly.
“I love you, too, Angel. With every piece of my battered heart.”
“It’s too early for this without coffee and food,” Jonas said, but he was smiling. Marco reached out a hand, snagged Jonas’s arm, and pulled him into our embrace.
Jonas squirmed at first and then just gave in, one arm going around me while the other went around Marco. He hugged us back, and my heart soared. I wanted to be one of the few people these two men counted on. I wanted to be their family. I wanted Chevelle to have them both in his life. My eyes filled just as my heart did.
Marco and I may have fallen down repeatedly in our lives, but somehow, we’d stumbled our way into each other’s worlds and found love. A love that would help us back onto our feet whenever we tripped again. I was his, and he was mine. Nothing else mattered.
